


If You Don't Cheat

by lurkdusoleil



Series: Load the Dice [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: BDSM, D/s, Flogging, M/M, Object Penetration, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lurkdusoleil/pseuds/lurkdusoleil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you don’t cheat, you don’t care enough.</p><p>Sequel to Load the Dice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kurt’s not much of a gambling man. He doesn’t play poker, he doesn’t watch races or sports, he doesn’t go to casinos and play the slots. And he doesn’t gamble with himself, much of the time.

Blaine is certainly changing that.

Whenever Kurt dated before, he’d take his time. If he was being pursued, he waited until the moment was right to return the interest strongly enough to encourage something further. If he was pursuing, he’d take it easy, wait until he was sure before making moves, far different from the fumbling nervous wreck he’d been in his unsuccessful high school love life. He always made absolutely certain, because getting hurt is not on Kurt Hummel’s agenda, and he’s experienced it far too much despite that, thank you very much.

He can’t get a read on Blaine, though. He’s not entirely sure who’s pursuing, or if they’re both pursuing each other, or if neither of them are. The only contact they’ve had since the night three weeks ago when they met (and fucked, so beautifully and deeply and all that despite no eye contact whatsoever) has been via text and three or four vaguely nerve-wracking phone calls. It feels like Kurt’s in high school again, fumbling again, totally unsure of how to properly date a man, or at least move forward towards dating. He’s interested, he’s certain Blaine’s interested, but they keep circling the subject, flirting and retreating, side-stepping any inquiries each in turn.

It’s kind of exhausting, and Kurt’s a bit miffed at his own behavior. He’s a Dom, and just because he’s just getting back into the lifestyle does not mean he can act like he’s never done it before. Especially with Blaine discovering his submissive instincts.

They talk about that, too. A lot. Blaine has a sub he’s talking to--Leta, Santana’s girlfriend, who’s been a sub as long as she’s been sexually active--and discovering certain things with, but Blaine has a lot of smart questions about boundaries and limits and aftercare that only a Dom can really answer. And Kurt is more than happy to provide them, even if he ends up unbearably needy for a sub (Blaine) to dominate afterward; just talking about it riles him up, like a man suddenly desperately thirsty all the time after his first drink of water in ages. He just doesn’t want to stop.

So when Blaine finally asks him out for coffee, Kurt accepts with absolute relief that Blaine made the first move. It’s important to Kurt that a sub set up their boundaries before the Dom takes over, and Blaine being the one to ask him out gives him the upper hand. Let him control the circumstances in which he hands over control--he’s vulnerable enough as it is.

It’s also the first time he’ll see Kurt, and Kurt wants him to be ready. He’s also terrified of Blaine’s reaction, even though he knows objectively that there’s nothing to worry about. He’s confident in his looks, and Blaine already likes what bits he’s experienced. But if he’s looking for someone with a face that looks like a horse and a rat had an unfortunate romantic run-in, he’s out of luck.

 **From Blaine:  
** So how will we find each other? Should we wear roses?

Kurt finds this so endearing and charming that he finds himself giggling and blushing before he can stop himself when it arrives during his lunch break the day of their date.

 **From Kurt:  
** Roses are so gauche. What about amaryllis?

 **From Blaine:  
** I’m not sure the corner shop by my place sells that, Kurt.

 **From Blaine:  
** Why don’t we just pick a flower ourselves? I’m pretty sure no one else will be carrying a flower into a coffee shop.

 **From Kurt:  
** Very well. But if there’s a sudden meeting of floral enthusiasts, we’re screwed.

Blaine sends back a simple lol and Kurt tucks away his phone. He’ll never make it through the day if they continue talking.

\--

He picks up a stem of crimson amaryllis, with three flowers clustered at the top. He’s a man of his word.

His nerves sing all the way to the subway station by the coffee shop Blaine had asked him to. But once he comes up and starts walking the final block and a half, he settles, his shoulders relaxing, his strides longer. He and Blaine connected. They _still_ connect, even when their bodies aren’t a part of the equation. They’ll connect now.

When Kurt enters, he looks around casually for Blaine. He finds him sitting at a table for two next to the window, already staring at him, his mouth hanging open a little bit, his eyes searching. Kurt smiles at him and starts forward. As soon as he does, Blaine’s face breaks into a huge smile, which Kurt can’t help but return.

“Kurt?”

Kurt nods, and Blaine is instantly up, approaching eagerly until they’re less than a foot apart and about to collide, at which point he freezes, hands half-lifted as though he were going in for a hug and decided against it.

“Blaine, you can hug me.”

Blaine laughs and relaxes, dropping his head for a moment and chuckling.

“I’m sorry, there’s really no precedent for this.”

“There isn’t. So don’t apologize.”

Blaine smiles up at him, sweet and fond.

“I won’t.”

And then he hugs Kurt. His arms wrap around Kurt’s waist, and Kurt immediately wraps around Blaine’s shoulders, his nose pressing against Blaine’s temple when Blaine’s head goes into his neck, nuzzling gently. It feels intimate and familiar in a way it shouldn’t, not with how little they actually know each other. But it does feel right.

Kurt pulls back. He can’t trust that feeling. His instincts are going out of control, the way his body folds over Blaine’s, the way he feels protective and strong around the smaller man, with his sweet smile and his wide, pleading eyes.

“Let’s sit. I’ll go get my coffee, and--”

“Oh, I--I already got you one,” Blaine says uncertaintly. “I didn’t get here _too_ early, so it should be just cooled down enough by now. The coffee here is scalding, you have to wait forever for it to be safe--”

“Blaine, thank you,” Kurt interrupts gently. He resists the urge to carress Blaine’s cheek. “You know my coffee order?”

Blaine looks at Kurt like he had questioned if Blaine knew his own shoe size.

“Of course I do.”

He leads the way back to the table, and Kurt sets his flower down in the center of the table with the one Blaine bought, and instantly cocks his head questioningly at it.

“Blaine?” he asks, settling into his seat. “What on earth is that?”

Blaine looks so proud of himself as he seats himself across from Kurt, leaning forward eagerly.

“It’s an anthurium,” Blaine explains. “It’s...it’s like an alternative to roses. It’s...supposed to be romantic.”

He becomes less and less energetic about it as he speaks, watching as Kurt picks up the flower and studies it.

“It’s a heart,” Kurt says.

“Yes.”

“With...”

“The search I did on it said that that’s called a spadix.”

“You got me a heart. With a penis.”

Blaine snorts and bursts out laughing again, and Kurt notices his head dropping again to hide it.

“I didn’t...I just--oh god, I just wanted to get you something unique, and my neighbor has this weird greenhouse thing on the roof, and I thought it was ineresting--”

“It’s perfect, Blaine,” Kurt says, unable to stop grinning. “Can I take it home with me?”

“Only if I can take yours,” Blaine replies, pulling up the amaryllis and touching one of the beautiful flowers gently.

“Deal.”

They sip their coffees for a few minutes, smiling across the table and exchanging small talk like any awkward date ever. And then, Blaine opens and shuts his mouth several times, sighing and shaking his head. Kurt sets his coffee down carefully.

“I get the feeling you have something to say, but have no idea how to say it.”

Blaine blinks at him and then smiles in awe.

“I think the problem is actually that I know exactly what I want to say,” Blaine corrects softly. “I’m just not sure how you’d take it if I said it.”

Kurt reaches over and takes one of Blaine’s hands in his own. Blaine immediately warms and softens, and he locks eyes with Kurt just as Kurt wants him to.

“I’ll make you another deal,” Kurt says. “Or rather, an exchange of promises. If you promise to be completely honest with me, and say what you need to say, I will promise to hear you out and try to understand before I react. And I promise whatever extreme reaction is in your imagination right now is not going to happen--no disgust, no storming out. This place is far too crowded for a proper storm out anyway, I’d never do it without knocking into somebody--”

Blaine laughs, a squeaky, breathy giggle, and Kurt just stares at him, probably with a dopey smile on his own face. This man is precious and sexy and sweet, and trying so, so hard for him. He wants nothing more than to be kind to him in all ways--to be a kind friend, a kind lover, a kind Dom. He deserves that. They both might.

“Okay, I’ll tell you,” Blaine says. He takes a deep breath. “Just...let me get it out? I...I tried to plan this, but I have no idea--”

“It’s okay, Blaine,” Kurt assures. “Go ahead, and you let me know when you’re done.”

He settles back a little bit, sipping his coffee casually, looking at Blaine calmly and trying not to seem too expectant. If Blaine needs time, he’ll give him time. And Blaine smiles gratefully at him for it.

“Okay. I want you to know that...that you changed my life. What you did for me, how you...how you treated me, when we were...um, together. At the party. I don’t think I would have been able to do more with this...part of myself, if it--if it hadn’t been you.”

He shakes his head and runs his hand through his somewhat over-styled curls, the other still held quietly in Kurt’s.

“I can’t imagine, I just--what if I had gotten Sebastian? Or someone else who just wanted to hook up? I think I might’ve...might’ve been too...too...um, I don’t know exactly how to say this.”

“Take your time.”

Blaine finishes off his own coffee, and then looks over at Kurt.

“May I please get you another coffee? I can go up and get it, maybe think--”

“Of course. Thank you. Why don’t you get yourself a snack, too? Something nice.”

“I’ll get something for both of us,” Blaine suggests, and Kurt nods, grinning. And then he’s gone, taking their cups to the trash before getting in line, fidgeting and bouncing on his toes. Kurt turns back around and stares at the empty chair once he realizes he’s staring, though--giving Blaine time to think probably doesn’t involve making him feel uncomfortable and watched.

Kurt _thinks_ he knows what Blaine is trying to say, but he wants to be sure. He’s under the impression that Blaine is thanking him for being a good Dom, for looking out for the sub first and not pushing things for his own benefit. He had the same feelings himself that night, and many times since--he was lucky, getting Blaine. If he had had a casual hookup, he would’ve felt cheap. Not because of anything inherently wrong with hooking up, god knows he’s done it himself before, but it’s not his _style._ He wants something more, to feel worth something to somebody, more than just a body. And Blaine made him feel like that.

Blaine slides back into the seat, pushes the coffee forward, and sets a plate with two biscotti on it at the center of the table. Kurt removes the lid of his cup and almost has to duck back from the cloud of steam.

“I told you they make it too hot here,” Blaine says ruefully. “Sorry.”

“Not a problem,” Kurt assures. “We’ll just have to be here for a little longer. Unless that’s a problem for you?” he teases gently. Blaine laughs again.

“Not a problem at all.” He bites his lip. “Do you mind if I--continue?”

“Go ahead,” Kurt grants. Blaine nods.

“I think what I was trying to say is that...I’m really happy it was you that night. You treated me like a person, even though I’m a sub. I was scared of not feeling like that. Like...feeling like _less than_ whoever I was with. The only person I know in the--the scene, that’s Sebastian. And--I’m sure you can imagine--”

“I can,” Kurt agrees wryly.

“Well. I was convinced that by taking the chance, by going to the party, I’d get him. I thought he’d rig it. And I...I didn’t want it, but I didn’t know how else to go somewhere where these--these feelings _mean_ something. He’s the only in I have.”

“Not anymore,” Kurt reassures. “You have Leta now. And me.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Blaine agrees earnestly. “And I’m so glad it’s you, because you make me...feel things. And I’m. Um, I’m learning, I guess? I’m figuring things out better now, now that I have a--a focus? Oh, god, I don’t mean to sound, like...creepy, or anything, I just--”

“It’s okay. You don’t sound creepy. Say what’s in your head, Blaine, don’t worry about how I’ll take it.”

Blaine looks at him intensely for a moment.

“I have no idea if this is normal. I just want to...to fall on my knees, whenever you talk to me. We don’t even have to be on the phone, just a text, and I just...I want to go back to that night, and do more, and _feel_ more. And I have...no idea if that’s at all normal--”

“Blaine, can I say something? Before you finish? It’s important.”

Blaine just nods, licking his lips in a way that Kurt can’t help but watch.

“Whatever you are feeling?” Kurt says sincerely. “Is okay. Don’t worry about normal or what other people think or feel. Your feelings are real. It’s how you handle the feelings that makes a difference. And talking to me about them, I really appreciate it. And if you want to continue, I want to hear what you have to say.”

Blaine’s face twists like he’s got too many emotions to contain at that moment, but he settles on a smile and takes a shaky breath.

“Thank you.”

Kurt just smiles at him, and then sips his coffee, still a little too hot, but cooled enough not to scald him. When Blaine still hasn’t spoken, he takes a biscotti and dips it, nibbling at the end, waiting patiently for whatever Blaine wants to say.

“I guess the point is that I want to...to see you. Like this, but also...like before. I...I want to show you how grateful I am for the things you’ve made me comfortable enough to explore. I’ve...talked a lot to Leta, and you know what we’ve talked about, obviously, and...I want to explore these things with someone I...I like. And trust. And...and want to be with.”

Kurt smiles at Blaine softly.

“Are you asking me if you can be my sub?”

Blaine blushes, and goes bashful and shy, and Kurt’s chest aches. He would be a fool to turn this down, and he has no intention.

“I...I guess I am. I’m sorry if that’s too forward--”

“Do you know what I loved most about our first meeting? About all that happened?” Kurt asks. Blaine shakes his head, and Kurt feels like he’ll never stop smiling. “That you were comfortable doing things. Some subs...a lot of subs, actually...they make it all about the Dom. They don’t do _anything_ out of fear of doing things wrong. And I understand that, but...I want someone who is my equal, not my inferior. I want someone who isn’t afraid to kiss me how they want to kiss me, how I want to be kissed. And you did that.”

Blaine’s eyes go dark and wide, his lips parted to pull in breath, and he reaches over and grabs Kurt’s hand. Kurt strokes over Blaine’s knuckles with his thumb as Blaine bites his lip and then speaks.

“I would...like to be your sub. I don’t know if there’s a...a thing we should do? A...I’m not sure--”

“How about this?” Kurt suggests. “Let’s finish our coffee, and go for a walk, and talk a little more. And then I’ll walk you to the subway station, and say goodnight, and make sure I know exactly when I’m going to see you again.”

“I--oh, okay.”

“Say what you’re thinking, Blaine.”

“I was hoping...you’d come home with me.”

Kurt wants to, so badly. But Kurt doesn’t gamble.

“How about we get to know each other first?” Kurt asks. “Let’s see if we’re compatible outside the bedroom. We already know we are inside it, and three weeks of talking mostly about the scene isn’t enough to really know each other. Let’s go out a few more times, take our time. And when the time is right, we’ll revisit this.”

“I...I can be okay with that,” Blaine agrees. “Can we...still talk about the scene, sometimes? I’m still curious, and--”

“Of course,” Kurt says. “I’d never take that away from you. Let’s just keep the sexual part of it for a later date.”

Blaine nods. “Okay.”

\--

They took new coffees on their walk, warming them in the chill of the night air. How it got to be dark out that fast, Kurt has no idea--as far as he could tell, they’d barely scratched the surface before they decided to grab another drink and head out, lest it get too late. And they’d walked up and down the blocks, ambling along easily, Kurt’s arm threaded through Blaine’s.

When they get to the end of the date, Kurt stops Blaine at the subway station.

“Do you take this, or are you within walking distance?”

“Actually, we passed my building,” Blaine says. “Twice.”

Kurt laughs.

“I’m sorry. If I’d known, I would’ve said goodbye to you there.”

“Never,” Blaine says. “I’m familiar with the area, and I wanted to walk you here so I can make sure you get on the subway safely.”

“That’s very sweet, Blaine,” Kurt replies gratefully, charmed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Blaine throws away their empty cups in the trashcan nearby and then returns, taking both of Kurt’s hands in his own. “When can I see you again?”

Kurt bites his lip and thinks.

“Well, I’ve got some meetings over the next couple of days, and that usually means catching up on work later, so I’ll be busy til...Friday? Are you available?”

“I am,” Blaine says. “Can I take you to dinner?”

“I’d love that, Blaine.”

“Good.” Blaine bows his head a little bit, like the most fantastical gentleman ever born, squeezing Kurt’s hands in his own. “Friday. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Kurt can’t help but smile into it as Blaine leans in and kisses him gently, a perfect, tingling, anticipatory end-of-first-date kiss.

“Goodnight,” Blaine whispers, pulling away, and whatever Kurt did to get this karmic reward, it must have been big.

“Goodnight.”

When he gets home, he slips into bed and imagines very vividly just how differently the night could have gone if he’d accepted Blaine’s invitation home.

\--

The date on Friday is wonderful, as are the dates on Saturday, Monday, and Wednesday, and every date they can manage after that for another two weeks. But simmering under the surface is a bit of something more, something missing, something prickling and cracking at the edges of Kurt’s patience--for what, though, he’s not totally certain.

Blaine ends their dates in a state of partially hidden agitation, and Kurt is beginning to worry. Their kisses are deeper, needier, and the whines in Blaine’s throat are clipped short and desperate. And even on the one date they’d ended up just staying in at Blaine’s apartment, after dinner they’d laid on the couch and made out like teenagers for far too long, it hadn’t been enough, evidently for either of them.

It’s the second time it happens, this time at Kurt’s apartment, that Kurt pulls back and brushes some of Blaine’s hair off his forehead.

“What wrong?” Kurt asks. And that’s all it takes.

Blaine sits up and clenches his hands in the knees of his pants.

“I am going insane, Kurt,” he blurts out. “I’m having all these...feelings, and needs, and you told me they were okay, but I don’t know what to do with them. I just...I feel like I...”

He trails off, and Kurt sits next to him and holds his hand.

“I stand by my promise,” Kurt says. “I will let you say whatever you need to say, and I’ll try to understand it before I respond.”

Blaine shakes his head in exasperation.

“You--you gave me everything, Kurt,” he says. “You showed me who I really am, and you did it in a single hour. What would you do to me with more? With weeks, months...with a lifetime? What could we do with each other?”

It’s there. It’s huge, and it’s fast, and Kurt’s not prepared to take this jump yet, not after just past a month of knowing each other.

“Blaine, I’m not sure--”

“You told me not to be ashamed of what I’m feeling, Kurt. And what I’m feeling is...that I want to be around you. I want to be yours.”

Blaine looks into his eyes, and waits for his response. And honestly, Kurt’s torn.

Kurt has always taken his time. Relationships that last need a foundation, and work, and Kurt’s never been in a particular rush before. But he can’t deny that things with Blaine have only felt uncomfortable when he’s put on the brakes.

But he needed to. Blaine is new to this, and Kurt is the only Dom he’s had. Kurt’s worried that Blaine might have latched onto how Kurt made him feel and equated the satisfaction of his needs with Kurt alone, rather than as something other Doms could also provide him with. He thought he was doing what was best, giving Blaine and himself time to settle into their dynamic, make sure that wasn’t the only thing between them.

But it looks like, while it’s not the only thing between them now, it might be something they can actually just _have._

Can he cheat? Can he skip all the hard parts, and just have something wonderful with Blaine? Can it really be that easy? It feels _too_ easy, and he’s predisposed to distrust it, like a slot machine he keeps getting sevens at. He can’t be this lucky, it can’t be this _easy._ They can’t be so compatible it feels like they were _made_ for each other, two halves of some undefined whole. Life doesn’t make things that simple.

But it is. And maybe Kurt needs to take his own advice and trust how he feels. He can at least try.

“Stay tonight,” Kurt blurts out, and Blaine’s eyes go wide.

“Are you--you’re serious--”

“Of course I am,” Kurt insists. “You’re right. I’m used to doing things a certain way. I’m careful. And I didn’t want to mess this up.”

“You couldn’t,” Blaine breathes, leaning in. “Nothing, nothing could mess this up--”

And then they’re kissing furiously, and Blaine is pushing Kurt down onto the couch, slotting between his legs, pushing in close to him. And soon enough, they’re totally wrapped in each other, panting and catching breaths whenever they can before they lunge back in, unwilling to stop the slide and press of their lips and tongues and bodies, in all their combinations.

“Can we...like this?” Blaine asks. “Just--normal? Want to do so many things to you--”

“Unh, yes--”

“Come on,” Blaine gasps, rolling them onto their sides and pressing their hips together. “Please--”

“Okay,” Kurt groans, gripping Blaine’s arms and letting him kiss down his throat. “So show me what you want to do to me.”

Blaine laughs, and complies.

\--

They fuck right there on the couch. There are several times when they suggest moving to the bedroom, but neither of them can pull away long enough to accomplish that. It was only when Kurt was laid on his back, naked, one leg rested along the back of the couch and the other spread out and bent off the couch, stroking himself when Blaine had stopped doing it himself, that Blaine just asked where the supplies were and went running to Kurt’s bedroom to get them--actually running, stark naked, cock hard in front of him, and Kurt laughed and covered his face and couldn’t watch, as pleasant as the view probably was. He’d only removed it when Blaine had lain back on top of him and lowered his already-lubed fingers down, opening Kurt too carefully before fucking him gloriously, grasping the couch and Kurt’s thigh for leverage, both of them sweating and loud and kissing messy and hard. Only when they’d both come, hard and too fast and not nearly enough, did they stumble to the bedroom, vowing to clean up in the morning as they fell into bed and did it all again.

The next morning they wake, and thrust tiredly into another orgasm. When they’re laying afterward, drowsy and messy and gathering up the energy to shower, Blaine starts drawing patterns with his fingers on Kurt’s chest next to where he’d laid his head.

“You told me to tell you honestly what I’m thinking.”

Kurt hums in agreement, and looks down as best he can, waiting for Blaine to spit it out. Blaine draws a heart and lays a kiss inside it before he looks up.

“I want to do a scene with you.”

Kurt breathes in the scent of Blaine, and the things they did together, and skips all the steps in between he’s ever planned in a situation like this.

“Okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for condom breakage.

The next night, Kurt goes to Blaine’s apartment. He stands outside the door, shakes his head at his own probably stupidity, and pulls out his phone.

**From Kurt:  
** Are you home?

**From Blaine:  
** Yes. Want to come over?

**From Kurt:  
** Don’t ask questions. What are you doing right now?

**From Blaine:  
**??? I just got out of the shower?

**From Kurt:  
** Unlock the front door. Then go lie down on your bed. Don’t get dressed. Do what you would normally do when you’re alone on your bed and naked.

**From Blaine:  
** Oh my god.

Kurt hears Blaine walk up to the door and unlock it before moving away. Kurt looks at the clock and gives it ten minutes. He leans against the wall next to the door and double-checks some things on his phone before checking the supplies he brought. He wants to make sure this goes well no matter what happens, and he has to be prepared ahead of time. He’ll need to take care of Blaine tonight. He _wants_ to.

Once the ten minutes pass, he very quietly slips into Blaine’s apartment, locking the door behind him. He toes off his shoes and tiptoes to Blaine’s room.

Blaine’s done more than just lie down like he was told, and Kurt’s pretty pleased, especially seeing as he seems to have caught on to what they’re doing--that, or got his hopes up. The plush wing-back chair from his living room is now in the corner across from the door, the path between going right by the end of Blaine’s bed. The lights are off, and Blaine put out candles, which Kurt finds both cheesy and perfectly romantic--a gesture after his own heart.

And Blaine is on the bed, sprawled out, gently stroking his own cock. He looks like gilded sex, his mouth parted, his eyes carefully closed. Kurt stalks across the room as quietly as possible, so as not to ruin the fantasy that Blaine had told him that first night--the one that stuck strongest in his mind as something they could easily do, something he could easily fulfill for Blaine.

_I have a fantasy that I’m in a dark room, alone. And someone starts speaking, but I can’t see them, they aren’t even in the room. But they’re watching me, and they tell me how to touch myself. They talk me through it--I have this fantasy all the time, I imagine it’s happening when I’m at home in bed. They tell me to stroke my chest, and my hips, and my ass, and they don’t let me touch my cock until I’m ready to beg. And then they make me take it slow._

Kurt sits in the chair, settling in comfortably. He crosses his legs and folds his arms in front of him, elbows resting on the arms of the chair, and he takes a deep, stilling breath.

“Stop touching your cock.”

Blaine’s eyes snap open, but stay trained on the ceiling, happy and awed and disbelieving. But he does what Kurt says, moving both his hands to the bed beside his body.

“Touch your neck.”

Blaine lifts one hand and strokes over his throat, fingers rasping faintly on his evening stubble.

“And your chest.”

The other hand drags up, and Blaine lets his hands roam, pressing into muscles tense from a day of running around and teaching kids to sing and play instruments and love music like he does. And Kurt smiles, watching this amazing man--amazing because he wants everyone to love like he loves, to love freely, warmly, openly. And Kurt wants Blaine to love himself like that--like Kurt might love him, given the chance.

“Go lower. Touch around your cock, but do not touch it directly.”

Blaine’s hips flex softly off the bed, rhythmically, even when he’s not touching anything that could be affected by it. It’s like he can’t wait to feel the movement--behind his eyelids, he must be seeing something above him, something to fuck, with the way his cock trembles and bobs and tenses with every lift off the bed, every writhe against the sheets, hands stroking his hips and thighs and drifting in to brush along the soft, thin skin of his groin. Kurt can see the precome leaking from the ruddy tip of his cock from here.

“Spread your legs.”

Blaine moans, obliging. His thighs flex, beautiful lines appearing along them, strong and dark in the candlelight. And god, he’s _flexible_ , legs at right angles, revealing the curve of his ass easily, spreading enough that Kurt can almost make out the pucker shadowed in the center. Kurt wonders just how wide he can go.

“Wider.”

Blaine licks his lips, nodding faintly, and then his hands flex and hover, unsure.

“Is there a problem?” Kurt asks.

“I--I have to stop touching myself,” Blaine says, voice low and faint. “I can’t go wider without...um...help.”

“I said wider,” Kurt insists. “I want to look.”

Blaine’s hips buck wildly, his cock bouncing off his stomach, his hands grasped tightly into his sheets. He pants and whimpers, and when he calms, his hands continue to tremble as he reaches down and pulls his legs up.

Oh, _fuck_ , he’s gorgeous. Spread so wide his whole body has to go into it, sweat on his brow and down his neck and chest, he looks _metallic_ , a paragon of every fantasy Kurt’s ever had, cast especially for him and presented of his own will. Kurt wants to sink into him, mouth and cock and tongue and fingers, lube and sweat and echoing groans, flesh on flesh.

“Reach down. Touch yourself--but not your cock.”

Blaine had been reaching to grip himself, apprehensive and most likely aching as much as Kurt is, bulging against his pants like he is with his legs crossed and binding him, but his mouth and eyes fall open in pleased shock, and his fingers bypass his first target to stroke below, dry and pressing, but the pleasure it’s giving him is clear.

“Switch hands.” Blaine does as he’s told, and then Kurt smiles. “Good boy. Touch that pretty cock for me.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Blaine gasps, letting his legs fall to the side, the fingers of his left hand between his cheeks and the right circling his cock, jerking swiftly.

“Slow down,” Kurt commands. “You are not allowed to come yet. Wouldn’t want to get there too fast, would we?”

Blaine almost sobs, but his hand slows to a crawl, hips bucking into his hand for a little more friction at the pace Kurt hums his approval of.

“You look so hot, Blaine,” Kurt says, watching every twitch and twist of Blaine’s body, skin stretching over muscle, tight and sweaty and flushed. He isn’t sure how much longer he can last, sitting here in the darkness, doing nothing--his hands and lips are burning with the phantom feeling of what Blaine will feel like when he finally gets to where Kurt wants him to go. “So sexy for me.”

Blaine stops stroking and squeezes the base of his cock, face scrunched, taking deep, steadying breaths.

“Are you close?” Kurt asks. _Yes, please, be close, finally--_

Blaine opens his mouth several times to answer before he just settles on whining and nodding his head. Kurt uncrosses his legs and stands, grateful for Blaine’s closed eyes as he approaches the bed and crawls up onto it, laying himself over Blaine, guiding his hands up above his shoulders and pinning them with their fingers laced.

“Do you mind,” Kurt whispers, mouth inches from Blaine’s, pulling back to maintain the distance when Blaine tries to close it, “if we fulfill one of _my_ fantasies?”

“Oh my god, yes, please, yes,” Blaine babbles. “Want so much, Kurt--”

“Where’s your chest?”

It had been a tantalizing and somewhat awkward conversation, when Blaine had shyly admitted he’d bought a chest and started looking into various toys to fill it with. They’d ended the conversation there, still tiptoeing around each other, but it had stayed in Kurt’s mind, and he wants to know what Blaine purchased to put in it.

“Um...left side of the bed, under...underneath--”

Kurt slips off the bed and crouches down, pulling out a small wooden chest about the size of a shoebox, and twice as long. It’s good enough for basic equipment, but Kurt makes a mental note to look for something better for the future, if their play advances.

There are several things inside--two dildoes, one average sized and one quite large; a long, thin, curved vibrator; a few boxes of condoms and some lube; a little tupperware case containing the aftercare supplies Kurt had told him to pick up; and then, Kurt shivers in anticipation--Blaine picked up a crop.

The handle is long and faintly flexible, bending just enough went Kurt tests it. It’s wrapped up its length with cushioned leather, providing a comfortable grip that warms in Kurt’s hands. The crop itself is simple and supple, the leather cured soft and velvety. It’ll provide quite a good snap, if Kurt’s any judge. And it’s perfect.

The only thing missing from the box is, thankfully, something Kurt thought to bring himself. He keeps hold of the crop, grabs a condom and one of the bottles of lube, and puts the aftercare kit on the nightstand. Then he walks to his bag and pulls out two lengths of soft fabric, almost like short scarves. They’re stretchy and soft, and Kurt smiles--it’ll all work perfectly.

Kurt goes back to the bed and lays out his selections next to Blaine. Blaine looks over and moans, fingers digging into his own thighs.

“Yes, please, Kurt--”

“Safewords?”

“Red to stop, yellow to pause, green to go,” Blaine recites quickly. “Please, Kurt, need it--”

“Do you want to know what my fantasy is, Blaine?” Kurt asks, stripping his clothes while Blaine watches, obviously enjoying the show.

“Yes,” Blaine says, “yes, tell me--”

“My fantasy is to tie up my sub and flog him until the entire back of his body is covered in little red marks. I want to mark him up with little patterns, my patterns. And I want to make sure he knows he’s mine--are you mine, Blaine?”

“Yes,” Blaine whispers, arching his back, offering. “Yes, Kurt. Kurt I’m yours, always yours.”

“Are you willing to let me prove it?”

“Yes, _god_ yes, please do it to me, please--”

“Get on your stomach.”

Blaine flips over easily and sticks his wrists up toward the headboard, face buried in the bed between his biceps. Kurt, naked now, crawls up and straddles over his lower back, leaning down to kiss over his arms lightly, dragging his lips to and from the veins that are sticking out, beating beneath the candlelit skin.

The first tie goes around Blaine’s wrists, criss-crossing and wrapping around and tying off with a slipknot. The second loops around that and then ties up to the headboard, with just enough give for Kurt’s purposes.

“So pretty,” he coos, slipping off the bed again to look at his work. Blaine is stretched long, arms above his head, legs out straight, back expanding and falling with his deep breaths. “So pretty, all mine. Are you sure you’re mine, Blaine?”

“Yes, Kurt,” Blaine says, lifting his head so his voice carries past the bed. “Yes, I’m yours--”

Kurt grabs the crop. “I want you to count. When we hit ten, we’ll take a short break. We’ll keep going until I am satisfied. You are not allowed to come. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Blaine breathes, and Kurt smiles. Good--he’s already starting to give in.

He stands at the foot of the bed, drawing the leather of the crop softly up the curve of the sole of Blaine’s foot, teasing. Then he draws it back just a bit, and snaps his wrist down, landing a strike on the back of his leg, low above his ankle. Blaine gasps, his leg jerking, and then turns his head to side.

“One,” he exhales, eyes blinking as he adjusts to the sting. Kurt leans down and kisses the spot lightly as the color rises, a sweet line that’s slightly thicker on one end, a few inches long. This is a good beginner’s crop--not as harsh, not as sharp. It’ll still sting and mark, but the leather is soft and thicker than some Kurt’s encountered. It softens the blow. Kurt smiles.

“How did that feel?” he asks Blaine.

“G-good,” Blaine replies. “It...it stings, but not much? It’s a little deeper I guess.”

“Mmmm, good,” Kurt hums. “You should be glad you didn’t buy a whip.”

Blaine bites his lip and bucks his hips into the bed. Kurt lays the crop warningly on Blaine’s lower back, threatening a strike.

“None of that,” Kurt says. “I will be the one giving you pleasure now, and only when I say. There will be consequences if you cannot follow my directions. Do you understand?” When Blaine nods, Kurt smiles again. “Good boy. Keep those hips still.”

Before Blaine can settle in, Kurt pulls back the crop and lays another mark, just above the one he just left, the crop turned just enough to lay it at a different angle. Blaine hisses and counts off, and Kurt kisses the mark, enjoying that it visibly darkens between when he leans down and straightens back up to strike again.

When they reach ten, Blaine is panting lightly, his toes flexing sporadically. Kurt kisses the last mark, a light line just at the top of the back of Blaine’s thigh, close to the crease where it meets his ass. The marks curve back and forth up Blaine’s leg, rising like a vine from ankle to calf to knee to thigh, pretty and pink and throbbing.

“Ten,” Blaine groans, and Kurt lays the crop down.

“Such a good boy,” Kurt praises, and Blaine smiles and whispers his thanks. Kurt spreads Blaine’s legs a bit and kneels between them, stroking the outsides of his thighs, away from the marks on one side. “I think you deserve a reward for taking this so well. Go ahead and rub yourself on the bed while I give you your reward, but stop me when you get close.”

Kurt pushes Blaine’s legs up, patting him gently when he hisses at the stretching skin on the marked leg. His ass raises up, and he seems to anticipate what he’s getting.

“Don’t hold back those noises you make,” Kurt instructs. “I want to hear you.”

With that statement hovering between them, Kurt leans down, spreading Blaine’s ass with firm palms and spread, pressing fingers, and buries his face in the center, kissing hard at the puckered skin of his hole.

“Ooooh, fuck,” Blaine gasps, hips rocking down, and Kurt responds by sticking his tongue out to lave flat over him, broad and quick and firm.

Blaine continues to make the best moans and whimpers, and Kurt gives everything he can, borrowing tricks he learned the first night they were together to draw out Blaine’s pleasure to the snapping point. It takes longer than Kurt expects, but it’s only too soon before Blaine tenses up and pulls away, blurting out, “Stop! Stop stop stop--”

Kurt backs off, not even touching Blaine, allowing him to come down on his own. He does so slowly, finally settling and breathing evenly. Kurt picks up the crop.

“Very good,” he says. “Keep this up and I’ll let you come tonight.”

Blaine needs another moment to calm after Kurt says that, and Kurt keeps it in mind, putting it on an ever growing list that he’s going to have to write down at some point--perhaps to put in a contract, if they decide to make this about more than as-wanted scenes. And Blaine is such a good sub, so wonderful, so natural at this, Kurt hopes they can do this as much as possible--

Kurt pulls back his hand, and lets the crop flick in again. A mark raises on Blaine’s other leg, followed by a wrecked _one._

At each set of ten, Kurt pauses, giving Blaine a different reward. He turns Blaine onto his side and sucks his cock down, letting Blaine fuck his face deep, leaking precome into Kurt’s throat at an alarming rate. The next time, he fingers Blaine gently while dripping little drops of wax along his crack, just missing the marks he’d just cropped all over the fleshy meat of his cheeks. Then, at Blaine’s frantic request, Kurt fucks him with the handle of the crop, lubing it carefully before thrusting it in deeply, dragging it out at different angles, finally finding his mark when Blaine cries out and thrashes wildly. At that point, he steps back and lets it rest, sticking out of Blaine’s hole like a tail, bobbing nicely when Kurt flicks the crop, letting it rock into his prostate and stretch him all at once, vibrating harder as it wobbles to stillness. Kurt worries for Blaine’s voice when he does this, as well as his self-control, his cries loud and harsh every time Kurt does it, his body twisting and arching hard. Before Blaine even calls it, he pulls the crop from him and wipes it down, petting Blaine’s hair and kissing him deeply before he resumes his work.

“You are everything I’ve ever wanted,” he whispers to Blaine, who is right on the edge of floating. “You’re just for me, aren’t you. Just mine.”

“All yours,” Blaine responds, his eyes shut, his mouth hanging open to gasp in breath.

“Okay,” Kurt says, grabbing the crop again. “Shall we continue?”

Three more times, they reach ten, marks swirling over Blaine’s back and arms and down his ass and legs. The last set of ten are simply Kurt adding finishing touches, filling in spaces that look too bare, too unmarked. And after the first two sets, Kurt gives Blaine his rewards--first stroking Blaine’s cock with the leather of the crop, teasing him slowly until he actually sobs for mercy, a plea which Kurt ignores until he gets too close, and then kneeling next to Blaine so Blaine can suck him off while rubbing himself into the bed, both taking the edge off of Kurt’s own rising desperation and increasing it with the muffled moans and cries from Blaine’s stuffed throat.

But when they finish, Blaine is a quivering wreck, and Kurt spends a long time kissing him and rubbing him gently, calming him and soothing him, letting him drift for a little bit in a haze of need and perfect pain and denial. Then, Kurt slips behind Blaine, letting him rest for a few minutes, twitching every few minutes when his cock throbs against the bed, whining and murmuring Kurt’s name.

Kurt takes the lube and opens himself up, reaching back to spread himself with one, two, three fingers, only stopping when he’s uncontrollably rocking back on his fingers, needing to come. And Blaine must be so much worse off, brought to the edge and denied so many times.

“Can you kneel up, Blaine?” Kurt asks, coming forward, feeling strange with the slickness inside him. “Just a little bit.”

Blaine nods and shuffles up, and Kurt’s glad of the length he gave Blaine on his restraint, because Blaine pulls it tight and uses it to hold himself up, and there’s still enough room for Kurt to slip in when it’s time.

But first, he rips open a condom package and rolls the condom onto Blaine. When Blaine realizes what’s going on, he takes a shaking breath and his eyes plead at Kurt, heavy-lidded and quickly returning to sharp focus.

“Oh god, please,” Blaine says. “Please let me fuck you--”

“If you’re good,” Kurt promises, and Blaine thanks him frantically, his head throwing back, throat bobbing as he swallows down air. Kurt crawls up and slips beneath Blaine, face-down, straddling his legs and letting Blaine’s restrained arms rest over one shoulder while he sets up. “Good boy. Now, just--help me get you inside--that’s right--”

Kurt reaches back and positions, sinking back as Blaine kneels up, position his cock perfectly to breach him and slide in smoothly, so swollen and hard in the condom, slick with lube and hot inside Kurt as he settles down onto his elbows, ass raised up to take Blaine just right.

“Do not move,” Kurt demands. “And do not come. If you get close, you are to tell me. If you move, if you come without permission, there will be consequences. Are you ready?”

Blaine appears beyond words. He just nods, and Kurt adjusts just a bit before he rocks back, taking Blaine to the hilt before pulling off and slamming back again. Blaine stays as still as he can, allowing Kurt to fuck himself on his cock, head hanging and mouth open as he watches himself disappear into Kurt’s stretched ass, hot and tight and slick. Kurt moans and keeps moving, pumping back and forth on Blaine’s cock, angling himself until it’s just right, crying out on every thrust that pierces the control he’s kept. And Blaine just stares and gasps for breath, letting Kurt use his body again and again, never complaining, never fumbling.

“I’m close,” Kurt grits out, his thighs burning, his cock bouncing hard against his stomach with the strength of his thrusts. “Can you hold off? Just a--a little more--”

“Do it,” Blaine gasps. “Please, please come--”

Kurt twists and reaches back, pulling the knot on Blaine’s wrists, and the ties unravel.

“Now fuck me,” he says, and then drops down as Blaine grabs his hips and gives it to him, pounding hard into him, drawing cries from his lips with every slap of his hips into Kurt’s ass.

“Yes, just like that--keep going,” Kurt babbles. “Yes, so close, just--fuck, fuck, _fuck_ \--”

He tenses, and then everything falls apart inside him, and he comes hard onto the bed, every spurt draining him of energy and strength until he’s collapsed down, loose and sated as Blaine continues to fuck him.

“You can come now, baby,” Kurt says. “You’ve been so good, come in me--”

“I--I can’t,” Blaine groans. “I--it’s too much, I--”

He sobs and drops onto Kurt, holding him tight and grinding in, kissing at the back of Kurt’s neck, biting and sucking and covering him, surrounding him, still fucking him in tight circles of his hips.

“I can’t come, it’s just...I can’t, why--”

Kurt stops his movements with a quick hand and then pulls off, and Blaine sobs in frustration again, folding over as Kurt slips from beneath him.

“Can you lay on your back? Is it too much?” he asks. Blaine shakes his head and rolls over, spread eagled and crying with the force of his need, cock pulsing pearly beads but never giving him the release he needs. So Kurt takes over, kneeling over him and settling back, holding Blaine’s cock up so he can sink down onto it, pushing past his own sharp twinges of oversensitivity to grind gently on Blaine. He leans down, chest-to-chest, and kisses Blaine, hands stroking over his arms and neck and into his hair.

“You were so good for me, Blaine,” Kurt says. “You made my fantasy come true, and it was so much better than I ever thought. Thank you so much, so perfect for me--”

“Are you mine, too?”

Kurt kisses Blaine softly, cupping his cheeks.

“Yes, I am,” Kurt replies, with total honesty.

Blaine nods, tears still leaking from the corners of his eyes periodically, his chest heaving for breath.

“Please make me come,” he requests. “Please, Kurt--”

Kurt rears up. He rises up on his knees and then comes back down with a hard _slap_ , and then again, and again, until he’s riding Blaine hard and fast, bouncing on his cock, ever muscle burning. But Blaine is crying out, his voice louder and louder.

“Come, Blaine,” Kurt commands, putting every bit of Dominance he can into it. “Come, _now._

Blaine does as he’s told. His hips jerk up, lifting Kurt straight off the bed, his back arching, his mouth open but totally silent for a long moment before he lets out a wild shout of Kurt’s name, sobbing his way down as his hips still, his body going lax.

When he settles, Kurt draws off of him carefully, a little sore. He strokes Blaine’s cheek and checks his breathing and pulse, which are slowing steadily as he rests, apparently blacked out, his eyelids shut and twitching faintly.

“My good boy,” Kurt praises, kissing his unresponsive lips tenderly. “Let me take care of you, baby. Let me be good for you.”

He checks Blaine over, and that’s when he realizes that their condom broke--Blaine’s cock just burst through the top end, and it’s still in one piece, wrapped around the softening base. Kurt squirms and realizes he can feel Blaine’s come inside him, and it’s not a bad feeling--he should be panicking, but Blaine--Blaine is _Blaine_ , and he trusts him. It might not be something he expected, but...he likes having this one mark of Blaine’s as well, when Blaine is lying there covered in marks that Kurt left. They can discuss it when Blaine wakes and is cared for--for now, Kurt can’t worry about himself, and doesn’t want to.

He sets their supplies aside for washing and grabs the aftercare kit, opening up the little plastic case. He pulls out the package of baby wipes and gives himself a quick cleaning before cleaning Blaine up as well, softly stroking over the sweat of his body and the leftover come on his cock. He pulls off the broken condom and discards it, and the wipes, and then turns Blaine gently onto his stomach, away from the mess they’ve made.

He pulls out the lidocaine wipes and goes over Blaine’s crop marks, easing the sting and cleaning him thoroughly. Once he’s finished, he grabs the little tube of arnica and applies it with gentle fingers, to help the bruising that might occur. It wasn’t a hard flogging, but it still has a risk, and Kurt wants to look out for his sub.

“Kurt?”

Kurt smiles and puts the kit away before sliding into bed with Blaine, carding his fingers through Blaine’s hair.

“How are you feeling?”

“Mmm. Good. Sore. You?”

“Messy,” Kurt responds honestly, but he doesn’t go further. That’s a conversation for when Blaine’s awake and aware, not floating in and out of subspace like this. “When you feel up to it, we’ll take a shower, and I’ll put some more arnica on your marks. Can you move for me, let me check if you hurt any muscles?”

Blaine nods and then moves with Kurt’s guidance. He doesn’t appear to have strained anything, so Kurt settles in, satisfied for now.

“Thank you,” Blaine says, cuddling onto Kurt, laying his body on Kurt’s chest, holding him tight, nuzzling his neck and leaving kisses where he can reach.

Kurt grins, feeling a wash of emotion through him. His eyes prick, and he holds Blaine close.

“Thank _you_ ,” he says. He waits several minutes, and then sighs. “I think...I might be falling in love with you.”

Blaine just breathes, contentedly asleep. Kurt smiles. It’s a good enough answer for him.


End file.
